


Planet of the Disney Apes - Discovery Channel

by Squickqueen



Category: Rise of the Planet of the Apes (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Beer, Bickering, Fanverse, Gen, Humor, Out of Character, Planet of the Disney Apes, Silly, Swearing, other characters are mentioned but don't say anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:41:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23737036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squickqueen/pseuds/Squickqueen
Summary: After a long and stressful day our favorite ape king is looking forward to cookies and a quiet evening in front of the TV. Instead, he has to deal with the worst - an uninvited guest!Will Caesar survive? Or will he tear out his hair in frustration? Spoiler: it's both :3
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	Planet of the Disney Apes - Discovery Channel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MackDreamer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MackDreamer/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Planet of The Disney Apes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21305186) by [MackDreamer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MackDreamer/pseuds/MackDreamer). 
  * A translation of [Planet der Disney Affen - Discovery Channel](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23772301) by [Squickqueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squickqueen/pseuds/Squickqueen). 



> Dear MackDreamer!
> 
> Your "Planet of the Disney Apes" story inspired my brain and I just had to play around in your universe. It's so much fun :'D  
> I hope you get a chuckle or two out of this story!
> 
> If you plan to write more stories for the "Disney Apes" - and I sure hope you do! - there's no need to integrate this little crack-fest of mine in any way. I see it as a fan fiction for a fan fiction :3
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> * * *
> 
> All hail to [Talimee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talimee) for beta-reading my "crap" yet again <3

Caesar switched off the computer, removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes. The past day had been an endless drag, with tiresome tasks piling up as high as Mount Everest.

The day was off to a _terrific_ start when Cornelius, who claimed every inch of his parents’ nest for himself, all but kicked him out of snuggle-heaven.

Utterly defeated by his infant son, Caesar had no other choice but to seize the morning and go hunting for breakfast, that is: go shopping!

While he pushed a cart with a broken wheel through the food aisles, Caesar wondered why there were never enough bananas or coffee for breakfast. He could have sworn that the pantry was bursting with food. Then again, Blue Eyes was a teenager now with a big appetite and Caesar had apes swinging in and out of his flat all day long. No wonder bananas were always scarce.

As for the coffee, well, even mighty Caesar had his weaknesses.

After such a well-spent morning, breakfast itself went down pretty well, all things considered. Blues Eyes even refrained from throwing banana peels at his father and decided to growl at his muesli bowl instead.

A while later, and right between Caesar's second and third coffee, two other subjects demanded the ape king's undivided attention, namely Koba and Red.

Koba had placed stink bombs throughout the apartment tower, threatening to detonate them, while Red had _beautified_ the hallways with “Donkey was here!” graffiti. The gorilla had also beautified Caesar's arm with pink spray paint, when the ape king tried to reason with him. Something Blue Eyes was miffed about since he had toyed with the idea of dying his fur neon green to freak out his father.

With the two trouble makers taken care of, Caesar finally had time to see to his most important duties: bills, taxes, and the cleaning schedule. Now imagine doing taxes for an apartment tower full of apes and you may understand why Caesar had too much coffee (Caesar: Come on, three coffee pots is NOT too much coffee!), surrendered to bureaucratese and finally switched off the computer mentioned above.

For a moment he just sat there and stared at the dark screen.

 _“When you gaze long at a screen, the screen also gazes at you,”_ Maurice had signed once.

Maybe it was his way to say that Caesar worked too much? Well, that was no secret and to be honest, Caesar missed the days when he and his apes had frolicked in the woods. No one cared about taxes in the woods! Why did they move to this apartment tower again? It was probably Disney’s fault. These days everything was Disney’s fault!

Thankfully Cornelia had his back. Without her moral support, love, and patience, the screen would have long since devoured Caesar.

"But Caesar,” his inner voice suddenly chirped, "what about your trusted advisors? They surely can help you with your overwhelming tasks.”

 _Haha, right!_ Caesar told his inner voice to shut up.

To be honest, his so-called trusted advisors were currently as helpful as popcorn stuck between his teeth!

Rocket had suffered a relapse into cookie-baking-madness, obviously trying to turn every ape into a ball on two legs with his baked delicacies.

Bad Ape regularly invited Caesar to tea parties with imaginary tea, cake and illustrious guests from the toy box such as Super Star Barbie, Skeletor and Ali the plush alligator. By now Caesar knew all their little secrets and intrigues and wondered when Skeletor would finally confess his love for Barbie.

Caesar might have been the busiest ape alive but skipping Bad Ape’s tea parties was a big no-no. Only foul villains like Koba or the Colonel would do that to hurt the chimp’s feeling, and really, people who hurt Bad Ape’s feelings probably ate little kittens for breakfast too!

As for Maurice... the orangutan had discovered the library in the basement and sometimes got lost for days in some parallel universes!

“Why me?” Caesar sighed dramatically whenever he was alone and everything was just too much for him to bear.

“Why me?” he sighed now when he remembered he’d promised Cornelia to take out the trash. A task he tried to delegate to Blue Eyes, but his firstborn had just looked at him with a raised eyebrow before declaring that he had a date with Lake and absolutely no time for something so mundane as taking out the trash.

The chimp sighed again, finally tore himself away from the screen and got up.

High time to call it a day!

Yawning, Caesar staggered into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. A plate with cookies cheered at him. How kind of Rocket to put a few of his tasty cookies aside for his king! Milk and cookies, yes, that was just the perfect for a - Caesar glanced at the kitchen clock - midnight snack. Cookie plate in one hand and glass of milk in the other, he made his way to the living room to relax on his extremely comfy couch and say good-bye to a stressful day!

He stopped dead in his tracks.

There, right before him, the blueish light of the TV flickered over the carpet. Who else was still awake?!

Even Koba was usually sound asleep at this time of night, cuddling his Kalashnikov and dreaming of a world without humans. Perhaps Winter had forgotten to turn off the TV again, after watching a movie too scary for him. Though Caesar had to admit, the witch from Snow White was spine-chilling!

The chimp tiptoed closer, gently pushed open the living room door and poked his head in.

Only to almost instinctively hurl the plate with cookies at the person who had made himself comfortable on his couch.

Just in time, Caesar remembered, that Rocket’s cookies were too precious to be wasted on Colonel McCullough’s bald skull.

Rotten banana peels! What was that horrible, horrible man doing here again?!

He kept popping up like a meerkat, stealing milk and eggs from the fridge, spreading the dirt on his boots all over Caesar’s apartment and never grew tired of complaining about the apes. At times he accused them of having stolen his stock of canned pears, only to return the next day in search of his flask, turning Caesar’s apartment upside down once more. But those things weren’t the worst. No, the worst occurred, when the weather turned bad. It took the Colonel a mere heartbeat to abseil the apartment tower's walls to stare through a window and give Caesar and his apes the stink eye as if they had conjured up the rain just to annoy him.

Everyone knew that bad weather was Disney’s fault!

Caesar rolled his eyes at the arch-enemy of simian-kind, who was lazing around on an extremely comfy couch full of ape hair, watching TV. With his right arm draped on the back of the couch, his legs stretched out far and a beer can balancing on his belly.

Irritated, Caesar marched into the living room.

That was _his_ couch and he wouldn’t let anyone take it without a fight. Especially not Colonel McCullough, whose mere presence Caesar took as a personal insult.

“What are you doing on my couch?!”

“Existing,” McCullough muttered without even looking at Caesar. The whole floor in front of him was cluttered with empty cans, the chimp noticed in annoyance.

Why did everything have to remind him that he still had to take out the trash?

“Don't you have a couch?”

“Sure do, but it’s not an extremely comfy couch. Plus, that idiot Malcolm bunked down for the night.”

Caesar was afraid to ask why Malcolm, of all people, was sleeping on McCullough's couch. Last time he had feigned interest in the Colonel's _problems_ , the man had chewed off his ear for an hour!

Without another word, cookies and milk in hand, Caesar carefully waded through the pile of empty cans and plopped down on the couch next to the Colonel. McCullough harrumphed before emptying the can, crushing it and throwing it to its brothers and sisters on the floor. A vein on Caesar's temple began to throb. He almost snarked, when he realized for the first time what the Colonel was watching.

In a very dense, very green, and very humid jungle, two chimps were screwing in their nest like there was no tomorrow.

Caesar almost choked on his cookie.

“First my couch and now porn?! That’s a whole new category of cocky. Even for you!"

That finally drew McCullough's attention.

“Porn?” he snorted and glared at Caesar over the rim of his shades.

 _"Why sunglasses? It's night! There's no sun in my living room. You don't need sunglasses! I don't get it! It's so stupid!”_ the words tumbled through Caesar's tired brain. His right eye twitched.

„What in the Sam Hill are you talking about, monkey?”

Caesar pointed at the screen with his half-eaten cookie, where the two chimps finally had broken their nest and were getting it on high up in the treetops. Caesar seriously wondered if such positions were at all possible, or if he had to thank skillful camera work for this impressive performance.

The Colonel spluttered beer through his nose.

“Damn you, monkey, that’s not porn, that’s a wildlife documentary on the Discovery Channel!” he explained, wiping beer from his beard. “You don’t believe for a second that I’d watch monkey porn by my own free will, do you?! Seeing your ugly mugs 24/7 is revolting, I don't need to look at your asses too! Monkey porn... Jesus Christ, you’ve gotta be kidding me!”

Caesar was offended. His butt was pretty and neat, as Cornelia kept assuring him, but what did someone like the Colonel know about ape butts. Exactly, nothing!

Both of them sat there in deafening silence, while the wildlife documentary now thankfully concentrated on the mating behavior of turtles.

“Do you want to watch more of our exciting terrapin friends, monkey?”

“I want you to leave - EY!” Caesar objected when McCullough helped himself to a cookie.

“Perhaps a little milk on top?!" the chimp asked barbed and wished for nothing more than for the Colonel to choke on his stolen goods.

“Don't be silly, milk is for babies. And monkeys, apparently. Real men drink beer!"

Without further ado, McCullough stuck his hand between the sofa cushions, rummaged there for a little while, until he finally pulled out a beer can.

“Catch!”

Since both of his hands had to attend to more pressing matters, that is milk and cookies, the icy can naturally hit Caesar's forehead and fell into his - "ARGH!" - lap, where it promptly led to frostbite.

McCullough cackled before he fished for a second beer.

"Lost your edge there, monkey? I remember a time when you would have caught that can with your teeth and ripped its head right off. Can’t hold your liquor anymore, huh? Seems it’s time for One-Eye to take over."

“Over my dead body!"

"Whatever you fancy. You'd make a fine rug, that’s for sure," McCullough laughed and plucked at Caesar's fur.

Squash banana, the man was drunk like a skunk!

“Of course, you'd need a good wash first with that pink stain of yours. Though it does emphasize your feminine side.”

“I hate you.”

Before the Colonel could utter more unnerving nonsense, the animal documentary ended and directed his attention away from Caesar.

He scratched his beard.

"Well, that was very educational. And because I'm such a nice guy, you get to decide what we watch next."

The vein on Caesar's other temple began to throb.

“Want you to go home," he growled. “It's late, and Preacher is worried."

“Na, fuck Preacher!"

“Whatever you fancy.”

One of the cookie crumbs forgot the marching orders and entered the Colonel's windpipe. McCullough doubled over on the couch, wheezing and spluttering, while his face slowly turned the color of Caesar's pink fur.

Maybe his wish came true after all, the chimp thought, but then his compassionate nature triumphed and he gave his nemesis a few hefty slaps on the back.

“Enough! Do you want to beat me to death?!", the Colonel sniffled a while later. He pushed his shades up on his head and wiped away the tears. “Jesus Christ, what’s gotten into you, monkey? I’d have never expected you to be so nasty! You know, what your problem is? You... sorry, gotta go carry off some beer.”

Groaning he pushed himself up from the couch, which only let him go with a heavy heart.

"No, don't bother, I know the way," he muttered as Caesar opened his mouth. Swaying, the Colonel made his way through the living room. Luckily there was only one door, otherwise, following all rules of slapstick, he would have ended up in the closet.

Caesar didn't know whether to laugh or to tear out his hair in frustration. The casual way the Colonel moved around in his apartment had him gnash his teeth!

A little later, the toilet was flushed, followed by the sound of tap water and... was McCullough singing?!

Caesar decided it was high time to visit his happy place. He could handle a lot but a singing Colonel, no, that was too much to bear!

He came to when his uninvited guest plopped back on the couch next to him.

“You need a time out," McCullough almost cheerfully continued, as if the pee break had never happened. He threw his arms on the back of the couch and stretched out his legs, while the shades nosedived from his head and landed gracefully on the bridge of his nose.

“Visit us for a day or two. Our couch may be crap but our coffee is excellent. Be more like me, monkey, relax and let your subordinates do the work!”

Caesar had indeed nothing against good coffee. He was the only one among the apes who appreciated the hot beverage. It reminded him of his adolescent years when he worked in a coffee shop for several weeks and... No! The prospect of good coffee would not distract him from the fact that his living room was littered with Colonel McCullough's empty beer cans!

“Be more like you? Relax at the expense of others?!” Caesar huffed.

“Hey, it’s all Malcolm's fault. If he hadn't occupied my couch, I wouldn't be here. Why is he always hanging around my flat anyway? I don't like him, he doesn’t like me. Easy, one would think. Why _does_ he have a key to my flat? Did you give him the key, monkey? That'd be so you! And his bullshit talk about peace, joy and pancakes! If he suggests that you and I should have a garden party to overcome our _differences_ one more time, I'll pull his idiotic blue hood over his head and knot it. With a double knot!”

Caesar unceremoniously shoved the last cookie into McCullough's mouth. Once the man got going, he talked like a machinegun!

The silence was short-lived.

“Mmm, you know, these cookies taste really good. The right amount of blood, sweat and tears - and chocolate.”

“Rocket's cookies are the best cookies!” Caesar agreed.

“Ha, don’t tell me we see eye to eye on one thing, monkey! Cheers!”

And with that, and a smirk twelve parsecs wide, the Colonel pulled out another can from the gap between the sofa cushions.

“To Rocket’s cookies! Well, come on now, hurry,” he muttered with a glance at the beer can, still laying in Caesar's lap.

“Or do you want a new one? That one must be piss-warm by now. Gimme that.”

The Colonel was actually making an effort to pick the can out of Caesar's lap, but the chimp got there first by hitting his hand with the plate.

“Ow! Damn it!"

“Hands off! Are you crazy?"

Nobody had any business down there, well, except for Cornelia of course.

After Caesar had successfully defended his personal space, he picked up the beer can and examined it. Pitch black and decorated with a red band and archaic-looking words, Caesar had never seen such a beer before.

“Cliché beer. Imported from Germany,” the Colonel explained. “Prost!”

Caesar wasn't sure if he really should drink the _cliché beer_. It was alcohol, after all, and alcohol did the worst things to living beings. The best proof was sitting right next to him.

Furthermore, he didn't feel like having a beer with Colonel McCullough of all people. It would look as if they were – Caesar shuddered - friends!

Thankfully, the Colonel's thoughts were already occupied by the remote and the search for something to watch for real men.

Without much success.

No rugby, no splatter, no grand war dramas and certainly no comedy with the humor of a thirteen-year-old.

Netflix would have been great but since Disney bought Fox in its decade long shopping-spree there was only Disney+ left in this apartment tower.

Revolting!

“Let’s watch the News,” Caesar suggested and carefully sniffed the beer can. McCullough grumbled.

“What about: You need a time out don't you understand? News turn your hair gray!”

“You’re the only one turning my hair gray,” Caesar thought angrily.

“You said that out loud, monkey. Say, is the beer too warm or why are you strangling the can? You can have a new one, you know.”

How did the Colonel keep pulling out cold beer cans from the couch?!

“That’s my secret. Just take it already, before it gets warm again!”

Caesar didn't answer but accepted the offered beer.

Before, in a fit of diabolic wickedness, shook the can and opened it.

“Damn you, monkey! Damn you to...”

The rest of McCulloughs screams drowned in a river of beer made in Germany.

~Sorry for the interruption. We are experiencing technical difficulties please stand by.~

“I hate you!”

Wrapped up to his neck in a blanket, a disgruntled Colonel McCullough sat on the sofa and stared at his beer-soaked shirt, which hung from Caesar's potted banana plant to dry.

Caesar next to him was in a sulk too.

He had hoped to get rid of the Colonel with his beer attack, but the guy had just taken off his wet shirt (thankfully only the shirt had gotten wet!), wrapped himself in a blanket and made himself comfortable on the couch again.

“That’s my favorite shirt!”

“You soldiers all wear the same shirts! And what is that?!"

Caesar pointed accusingly at the movie flickering across the screen. He still couldn't believe the Colonel’s choice.

“A vampire movie.”

“A _sparkling_ vampire movie!”

“Still better than Disney princesses! I remember last time when you and your posse squeezed your hairy ape bodies into frilly dresses. The horror!"

“So, you prefer sparkling apes?”

If looks could kill, he would be nothing more than a smoking heap of ash by now, Caesar thought and chuckled before settling back on the couch. Well then, he would also pass this trial. Under no circumstances would he give up and go to bed as long as the Colonel was still here. Oh no, he would stay here, if necessary until breaking dawn!

~One short night's rest later.~

“Colonel, sir, are you here? You said you'd be home in time for breakfast. There are fresh coffee and crusty buns. I even found a jar of canned pears you preserved last year. Maybe they aren't so sour this time. Everyone's waiting for you and... AAAIII!”

The windows rattled under the shrill scream and Caesar jolted awake. He sat bolt upright on the couch, his brain only slowly getting into gear. What was happening? Where was he? Why was his arm wet? Why did the fire alarm go off? Did Rocket forget to turn off the stove again? Or was it the start of the zombie Apepocalypse?!

He was still pondering, when Colonel McCullough followed his instincts as an experienced soldier, yelled “Take cover!” and hauled Caesar from the couch to the ground. Chimp and human landed in a clattering sea of empty beer cans.

"Sir, how can you be so mean!" Preacher cried. "First you leave me alone with Malcolm - he made me a goddamn _friendship_ _bracelet_! - and then you spend the night on this extremely comfy couch full of ape hair, drooling all over Caesar's fur?!"

 _Oh please, no!_ whimpered Caesar. _My beautiful, beautiful fur!_

"Why doesn't anyone ever want to cuddle with me and drool on my arm?!”, Preacher continued to complain in his shrillest voice, obviously having gotten everything completely wrong.

Colonel McCullough emerged from the sea of cans like the great white shark incarnate, before unceremoniously grabbing the ranting Preacher by the scruff of the neck and throwing him out of the room. He almost knocked over Blue Eyes, who peeked in and, taking in the sight in front of him, wondered in all seriousness, if he had been adopted.

With what little dignity he had left, Colonel McCullough put on his shirt, neatly folded the blanket and stepped outside on stiff legs. At the living room door, he stopped.

“Thanks for the couch and the cookies,” he grumbled. The temperature in the room dropped by several degrees.

"You're welcome. Please don't come back anytime soon."

Colonel McCullough nodded briefly and left.

The front door snapped shut.

Peace and quiet returned.

And Caesar’s gaze fell onto the pile of empty beer cans.

“Why me?” he sighed.

That's right, he still hadn't taken out the trash!

~To be continued ...?~

**Author's Note:**

> And on the next episode of Planet of the Disney Apes: Will Caesar finally take out the trash? Will he win the war against ape hair on the couch? Will Preacher recover from his shock? And what nefarious plans has Rocket baking next to his cookies? Stay tuned!  
> ***  
> Curious what the German cliché beer looks like?  
> https://www.amazon.de/K%C3%B6stritzer-Schwarzbier-24er-Pack-500/dp/B00G5IVDPM  
> It's also not really cliché beer (it's too dark for that), I just like to drink it :'D


End file.
